


in the pitch black clubs

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: 30 Day Lyrics Challenge - 2017 [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Clubbing, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Getting Together, Jealous Derek, M/M, Overprotective Derek, Overuse of italics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: “Are you…stalking someone?” he asks when Derek doesn’t offer up a response. He cocks his head to the side, squinting, “Are you stalking me?”Derek flares his nose as he huffs, glare hardening, and Stiles’ other eyebrow joins the first as he takes a sip of his rum and ginger.“Do you even know what kind of creatures are here?”





	in the pitch black clubs

**Author's Note:**

> from Wrong Side by Abney Park:
> 
> "I dance were the darker crowds dance/In the pitch black clubs in a clove stained trance"
> 
> See end notes for reference points if you want some.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asks, voice low and gruff. Stiles can barely hear him over the music, though it’s quieter by the bar where they are. Stiles blinks, taking the drink from the bartender with a nod of thanks.

“Drinking and dancing, what are  _ you  _ doing here?”

Derek  _ glares  _ at him, which Stiles is a little offended about because Derek hasn’t really  _ glared  _ at him in at least a few months and he hasn’t done anything wrong, hasn’t even said anything wrong that he can think of. He knows that Derek only talked to him at first because he was Scott’s best friend, and Scott was his packmate, but they’ve developed a  _ friendship  _ over the past few years. Or, at least he thought they had. 

He raises an eyebrow at Derek.

“Are you…stalking someone?” he asks when Derek doesn’t offer up a response. He cocks his head to the side, squinting, “Are you stalking  me ?”

Derek flares his nose as he huffs, glare hardening, and Stiles’ other eyebrow joins the first as he takes a sip of his rum and ginger.

“Do you even know what kind of creatures are here?”

Stiles feels his eyebrows go even farther up his forehead and he’s sure he looks cartoonish right now, but  _ honestly _ how else is he supposed to react when Derek is acting like this? He glances around the club - booming with bodies grinding against each other, against thin air, or standing in dark corners, watching with eyes glowing. It’s a supernatural club, specifically for various creatures to be able to come out of their shell without judgement and there’s a no tolerance policy for anyone who makes anyone else feel bad for anything that isn’t hurting others. 

Stiles likes it here. He’s a supernatural magnet (probably at least partially the reason Scott got bit all those years ago, if he’s honest), and they lap up the hormones and scents he gives off like humans could care less about. And Stiles - he’s not gonna lie about it, he loves the attention.

“I know where I am, Derek,” he says slowly, his eyes making their way back to Derek’s, who’s still scowling at him.

“It’s dangerous here,” Derek replies, and Stiles can’t  help  the laugh he lets out.

“Dude, I can take care of myself,” he assures Derek, taking his drink and starting to head back over to the dance floor, where a succubus/witch couple is waiting for him and if he’s  lucky tonight, he’s gonna get lucky tonight. Derek sticks his arm out, stopping Stiles in his tracks, and  fuck no .

“Dude,” Stiles says, threat on the edge of his voice, “You may be my packmate and an alpha, but you are  not  my boss.”

Derek  growls then, eyes fading red for a moment and there’s a couple people near the bar who’re openly staring at the two of them now, but Stiles certainly isn’t going to back down. 

“You don’t scare me,” he tells Derek, “If anything the whole - scary werewolf act doesn’t do anything but turn me on a little.”

There’s a momentary pause where they’re staring at each other, Derek’s eyes still red yet scrutinizing, before Derek’s arm is suddenly around Stiles’ waist and he’s pulling him close. Stiles almost drops his drink when, suddenly, Derek’s lips are his and he’s kissing him. 

Stiles pulls back after a moment, when he realizes what’s happening, stomach flipping and lips - as cliche as it is, and god but he hates cliches - tingling.

“What. The.  _ Fuck _ ?” Stiles says, and more than a couple other patrons are staring  now . Derek has an absolutely stunned expression on his face.

“It’s not that I minded at all what happened,” Stiles continues, and his heart is  racing , “But usually it’s common courtesy to  _ ask _ .”

“I’m - sorry,” Derek gruffs out, eyes still wide like he’s shocked at himself. His voice is more hoarse than before, his arm still a heavy weight around Stiles’ waist, face close and Stiles is still pulled flush to Derek’s body. And - he’s not shocked, in the least, at the pure wall of  _ muscle  _ Derek is built of, he’s known him for five years and seen him  _ plenty  _ of times in various states of undress, but between it all - the kiss, the body, the hand lightly grasping at Stiles’ hip - he gets a sudden flash of want. Images of Derek fucking into him, of what Derek’s cock would feel like against the back of his throat, in his ass, what Derek’s mouth would feel like on  _ his  _ dick flicker through his mind. The sound of his voice after a good round, the growls he no doubt lets out, Derek’s face above his with eyes blood red, claws against his hips and  damn Stiles knows he has a danger kink but this is a bit  _ much _ .

He knows the instant that Derek catches the scent because his eyes spark back to red, nose flaring again, and there’s a subvocal growl in his throat when someone walks a little too close to Stiles.

And  _ oh _ . Ohhhhh.

“You wanna fuck me?” he asks, and the growl grows a bit louder, Derek pulling Stiles even closer and head tilting down just a hair as Derek breathes in. Stiles smirks, reaching behind him to place his drink back on the counter, hand sliding down Derek’s free arm and grabbing his hand.

“Take me home,” he whispers, just loud enough that Derek can hear him, and perhaps a couple of the closer people, “Fuck me. And we can talk about your overprotectiveness and jealousy issues in the morning.”

Derek’s nose is pressed to Stiles’ neck by this time, breathing deeply, and after one more moment he lets Stiles go, almost dragging him through the crowd - all of whom are focused on their energy, all the things they’re spitting at each other - and out of the club.

Stiles laughs behind him, happy to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> Reference notes: supernatural creatures are known. Stiles is human. Scott was bit by a rogue alpha when they were nineteen and later taken in by the Hale pack. Hale pack is completely alive. Multiple alphas exist in single packs due to evolutionary something-or-another bc I said so. 
> 
> find me at [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com)
> 
> don't post my stuff to goodreads or like sites thanks!


End file.
